<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>interrogation by Hevheia</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30085062">interrogation</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hevheia/pseuds/Hevheia'>Hevheia</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Old Guard Duolingo Prompts [20]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Post-Canon, Reunion, mentions of torture</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:47:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>717</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30085062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hevheia/pseuds/Hevheia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about mortality is that torture is way more efficient. While yes, immortality made it possible to draw it out to excruciating lengths and appealed to the inventiveness of the interrogator, it also guaranteed no real harm could be done - except for the psychological of course. Still, it had always helped Andy to see things through. She had always known she would be able to avenge herself in the end.</p>
<p>She didn’t have that luxury anymore now.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Old Guard Duolingo Prompts [20]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952467</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>interrogation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Part of the one year streak celebration!</p>
<p>Prompt: I do not know these people (Ich kenne diese Leute nicht)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The thing about mortality is that torture is way more efficient. While yes, immortality made it possible to draw it out to excruciating lengths and appealed to the inventiveness of the interrogator, it also guaranteed no real harm could be done - except for the psychological of course. Still, it had always helped Andy to see things through. She had always known she would be able to avenge herself in the end.</p>
<p>She didn’t have that luxury anymore now.</p>
<p>Moreover, if it hadn’t been for her mortality, she wouldn’t have been here in the first place. She would have healed before they dragged her off and bound her hands and feet together.</p>
<p>She doesn’t doubt for one second that the others will come and rescue her, but she wishes they would hurry the hell up. </p>
<p>“Who are your associates?” the man in front of her asks for the millionth time.</p>
<p>Andy sighs from where she is bent double in a chair. She has lived for over six millennia but even her patience is running thin with these kidnappers that clearly can’t take a hint. Her broken ribs and various cuts and bruises don’t exactly help either.</p>
<p>“How many times do I have to repeat myself? I work alone.”</p>
<p>“You wouldn’t have to repeat yourself if you didn’t insist on lying.” </p>
<p>He crouches in front of her, then fumbles in one of his pockets. She almost laughs when he takes out photographs. Does he honestly think some photographs will make her talk?</p>
<p>He shows her the first photo. It’s one of Nile running down a street. Then one of Nile, looking over her shoulder in some alley. Then Joe and Nicky in a bar when they had to shadow someone. </p>
<p>Andy keeps her face carefully blank.</p>
<p>“So?” the man barks at her. “You still work ‘alone’?”</p>
<p>Andy lifts her head to meet his gaze, even though her vision is a little off since her right eye is swollen almost shut. “I do not know these people.”</p>
<p>The man’s mouth is pulled into a tight line. He shows her more pictures. Joe. Nile and Joe. Nicky. Joe and Nicky. Nile again. They sure have been thorou-</p>
<p>The world tilts beneath her and it’s as if all the air is knocked out of her.</p>
<p>On the photograph, beside Booker of all people, is…</p>
<p>Quynh. It’s Quynh.</p>
<p>The man chuckles low in his chest. “So you do know them.”</p>
<p>Andy immediately starts fighting her bonds, barely noticing the zip ties cutting her still healing skin. </p>
<p>“Where is she? How did you find her?” She sounds desperate, terrified. She is giving everything away. She doesn’t care. “What have you done to her?”</p>
<p>“We haven’t done anything yet, but seeing how much she means to you… maybe we’ll pay her a little vis-”</p>
<p>He is silenced by a bullet in the back of his head. Andy watches him fall to his knees, then face down on the ground. </p>
<p>Time slows down when her eyes travel upwards again, to the person standing in front of her now. For a moment, neither of them moves. </p>
<p>Then Andy breathes, “Quynh.” And what was left of her vision blurs with tears.</p>
<p>Quynh runs over to her, taking out a small knife that’s strapped to her thigh. She kneels behind Andy to cut the zip ties. Andy tries to turn around to keep watching her, to make sure she is not a ghost. She is trembling. There’s a pressure in her chest she thinks will choke her, will drown her.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” she says with her strangled voice. “I’m sorry, Quynh. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” </p>
<p>She repeats it over and over again until Quynh is in front of her and there’s a cold hand on her cheek. Andy whimpers and has to close her eyes; her skin still remembers her touch.</p>
<p>“I know,” Quynh says in a language (<i>their</i> language) Andy was afraid she had long since forgotten. Quynh’s dark, beautiful eyes are shining with tears as well. But she smiles. It is faint and fighting the weight of all that still has to be said, but it is there and it makes Andy ache. “I know.”</p>
<p>Andy throws her freed arms around her and clings to her so tightly to make sure she’ll never lose her heart again.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>